


nothing comes as easy as you

by chocobos



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, after the war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3458165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocobos/pseuds/chocobos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Shit," Babe curses, and then pulls him into a hug in the middle of his doorstep. It feels like coming home. "It's been a long damn time, Gene."</p>
            </blockquote>





	nothing comes as easy as you

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first canon compliant fic i've written in almost two years. and it also happens to be my first canon compliant fic for this fandom.
> 
> this was written for the prompt i received on my tumblr ("I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.") i changed it up quite a bit so i hope this is still okay!
> 
> as always this was written about the actor's take on the real men and not the real men themselves, no harm meant, etc etc.
> 
> unbeta'd, but read over by me.

\---

 

Babe can't stop staring.

He hasn't seen Gene in months. Not since the end of the damn war, not since Babe saw the thickness of his black hair fade into the crowd at the shipyard. Babe tries not to think about it. He tries not to think about how he misses Gene like a limb sometimes, when the coldness of Bastogne seeps into his dreams and he wakes up in his bed, cold and disappointed and drenched in sweat. 

He'll never admit to how he craves for those disgusting foxholes, just because it's closer to Gene then he can remember being in a long, long time.

But, here Gene is, peering up at Babe through those thick eyelashes with a duffel bag perched over his shoulder, and goddammit if Babe hasn't seen anything else look so good. Gene himself looks the same as when Babe left him, from the purple shadows under his eyes to the thickness of his hair, and the downward slope to his mouth that they couldn't get rid of, no matter how hard the men tried. 

Babe thinks months of losing men would do that for someone. 

(They had an outlet for their grief, Babe and the rest of the soldiers, but Gene  _didn't_. Gene doesn't have any blood on his hands except for the ones he couldn't save, and he thinks that's probably worse.)

"You gon'na let me in or you just gon'na keep up your starin'?" Gene asks. His voice is as deep and accented as he remembers. Babe thinks he's probably missed that the most. 

"Shit," Babe curses, and then pulls him into a hug in the middle of his doorstep. It feels like coming home. "It's been a long damn time, Gene."

 

\---

 

Gene's been staying at Babe's apartment for three weeks and Babe is still walking around waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Some nights Babe wakes up expecting there to be gunfire blaring from overhead as they lay in bed -- they've been sharing a bed since Gene got here, neither one of them questioning it from the moment Gene set his dufflebag down on the side Babe never even used, instead spurring Babe to search for the extra pillows he knows he stashed here when he first got back -- but all he gets is the soft, warm press of Gene's arm around his waist, his breath tickling the hairs at the back of Babe's neck. It feels like he's always belonged there; it feels like he never left. 

Other nights, when both of them are unable to sleep due to it not being cold enough or from the demons that tease the both of them from the corners of the night, they'll sit at Babe's rickety old coffee-table, nursing the shitty whiskey Wild Bill will send him whenever his supervisors are too blind to notice it's missing, and they'll talk. 

It's nothing like during the war. 

Gene's still the source of warmth that he remembers from sharing foxholes with, but he talks more, words flowing with ease, and some nights Babe doesn't think he's ever heard anyone talk so damn much, not even Luz. He learns that Gene grew up in Louisiana, loves his grand-mère's gumbo so much he took some of it with him because he didn't want to go without it, and that before the war he wanted to be a doctor.

"Don't wan'na do any of that now," Gene says, and his eyes go misty, his mouth sad. Babe wonders what ghosts are visiting him this time, and falls quiet. 

Gene surfaces after a few minutes like he always does, looking sheepish and a little bit ashamed, but Babe doesn't think he has anything to feel sorry for. 

He doesn't think any of them do.

 

\---

 

"What about now?" Babe asks, a few days later.

"Heffron?" 

"What do you wanna do now?" 

Gene looks lost again. Gene looks lost a lot, Babe thinks they both do, whenever the future comes up. They both were soldiers for so long it's difficult to picture them doing anything else. He still wakes up some mornings reaching for the bayonet he always kept in his pocket, and knows that sometimes when he's asleep, Gene'll search through the closets and cupboards for his medic bag. There's just some things soldiers never outgrow.

("You can take the man out of the war," Bill grins, one night after Babe gets back to the states. His leg is gone, gone,  _gone_ , but his smile is wide, and it's hard to remember a time when it was there, with the way Bill wears the absence of it like a cloak. "But, you can't take the war outta the man."

Babe doesn't say anything, but mostly because it's true.)

"Dunno yet," Gene murmurs. "I'll let you know when I figure it out."

Babe's heart accelerates, and wonders which plans end in him leaving Babe, and which don't.

 

\---

 

Gene's been there for three months before Babe caves.

Babe has been quiet all day. He knows Gene has noticed, because Gene notices everything, it's just how he is. He wakes up with the sun regardless of how little sleep he gets, takes his coffee black because it gives him the blanket of security from the war, and he's also probably the most observant person on the planet. But, Babe also knows that Gene never pushes or pries. He'll deal with Babe's weird brand of silent treatment until he eventually breaks or Babe kicks him out. Babe is honest enough with himself to admit he doesn't like the sound of the last one at all.

"Gene," Babe starts. The other man is curled up on Babe's --  _theirs;_ it's theirs now, everything is, has been since Gene showed up on his doorstep and refused to leave -- couch, underneath one of the quilt blankets Babe's ma will drop by whenever he's taken too long to check in with her. The soft glow from the moon streaming in through the window is lighting up his the side of Gene's face, and Babe can't stop staring. "Do you ever plan on leavin'?" 

Gene doesn't even hesitate. "You want me to?"

"No," Babe says, and it's like it's being ripped from his throat.

"No. I don't," Gene smiles at him. It's soft and intimate and one that Babe's never seen before. "Gonna stay."

Wrapped around Gene, Babe doesn't have any dreams that night. 

 

\---

 

"What about your grandma's gumbo?"

Gene's cheeks immediately flush with color, and the smile he offers Babe is sheepish as it gets. It is helplessly endearing. "Kinda grabbed the recipe 'or it on the way up here."

The smile Babe offers at that is blinding. "Yeah?"

Gene nods. "Yeah."

 

\---

Babe kisses him for the first time during the summer.

They both found work now, Babe down at the docks just off the river and Gene at a construction company that was started up by Bill's brother. Their days go a lot like this: Gene wakes up first, makes them a pot of coffee, sets out Babe's favorite brand of cereal and the bottle of milk on the dining room table and takes a shower. They eat breakfast together, talk about their coworkers and whatever flavor of the week is keeping Bill occupied, and leave for work. 

Babe always wants to kiss him the most in those moments. 

One morning he just does. He's not sure if it's because he's just grown so tired of it, so tired of dancing around each other like they're school children again, or maybe if it's because the sun seems to be shining brighter than usual today, but whatever it is propels Babe forward to close around Gene's wrist as he reaches for the door. 

The look Gene gives him is surprised, curious, but open. It's all the courage Babe needs to press the other man back against the door, to slot their hips together and catch his lips in a kiss. The first thing Babe notices is that Gene tastes like coffee and mint toothpaste and that his lips are soft and warm, just like the way they press against each other at night. The second thing he notices is that Gene is actually kissing _back_. 

It's awkward as they search for an angle that doesn't hurt both of their necks, and their teeth press against each other's uncomfortably a few times, but Gene's mouth opens for his pliantly when Babe's tongue traces along the seams, and he's never tasted anything better.

Gene rests their foreheads against each other after they pull away. "'hat was that for?"

Babe bites on his lip. He hopes his nerves don't leak into his voice. "It scares me, y'know. It scares the shit outta me, Gene."

"Edward?" Gene questions. His eyes are pools of concern. 

"This," He gestures between them with his free hand. His other hand has somehow found itself wrapped around Gene's waist, and Babe keeps it there, mainly because Gene hasn't shoved it away. "Been halfway in love with ya since fuckin' Bastogne. Doesn't seem to be goin' anywhere."

Gene doesn't say anything, just quirks a crooked smile at Babe before he leans in for another kiss. This one is softer, more patient than the other one. Babe's never had anything else feel more like a damn promise.

"De tout mon coeur," he rumbles. 

Babe doesn't have to understand to kiss an affirmation into the side of Gene's neck, fingers digging bruises into his waist.

 

\---

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to follow me and send more prompts to my tumblr (@punkroe) 
> 
> (yes the title is taken from a fall out boy song, and yes u can fight me if u have a problem with it)
> 
> obligatory disclaimer that i do not speak a lick of french. roughly translates to 'with my whole heart' -- or at least this is what google translate tells me.


End file.
